


Bacon Chasers: Pigheaded

by Beltenebra



Series: Bacon Chasers [1]
Category: Johnny's Entertainment, Kanjani8 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Bad Puns, Cop Fetish, Fast Cars, Handcuffs, M/M, Mouthy Bottom, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-06 01:56:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8730127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beltenebra/pseuds/Beltenebra
Summary: When Hina fights authority, everybody wins.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I was at a bar (not surprising) and the menu stated that you could add bacon to anything on the menu for a dollar, even Malibu rum. This caused my friend to exclaim somewhat skeptically "you can get a bacon chaser?!". So I may have mentioned that the phrase 'bacon chaser' sounded to me like a term for someone who has a cop fetish... and I may have continued on to say that it would make some really hot fic... and I may have promised to write it. This may, in fact, be that very fic.

It was 3:37 in the afternoon and Officer Yokoyama Yuu was bored out of his mind. He surveyed the stretch of empty, country highway he had been ordered to patrol for the afternoon and scowled. It was a bullshit assignment, which he wouldn't admit that he probably deserved. He wasn't entirely sure his current predicament was worth the prank but the look on the section chief's face when presented with his cell phone encased in banana jello was pretty damned hilarious. At least he had gotten off slightly better than his partner who hadn't managed to contain his guffaws at all. Maruyama was stuck walking around town writing parking tickets for the next week at least, at least he got to keep his patrol car.

3:42 and he was just about to hunker down and see if he couldn't catch a nap. He hadn't seen a single car all day, he doubted he was going to be catching any speeders. He had just gotten comfortable when his half-closed eyes registered a black blur. Hell. Well, ask and ye shall receive. He should have known better. The patrol car roared into life as he pealed out after the car, lights flashing and sirens wailing. He was certainly awake now, this guy seemed determined to break the land speed record. Luckily Yoko played a lot of driving games and he caught up without much difficulty.

The black car pulled over as soon as Yoko flashed his lights. Hopefully that meant the driver wouldn't try anything stupid. He took his time strolling up to the window, admiring the car. It was a Camaro, shiny and black (his favorite color). The driver hadn't turned off the engine yet and he could feel the subtle purr as he ran his hand along the sleek line of the hood. He only stopped for a moment to admire the way the car seemed to suck the sunlight into itself rather than reflect it, the way the car seemed to be poised on the edge of motion like it was ready to fling itself into the wind at any second... he wondered what it must feel like to be behind the wheel of this beauty, to have all that horsepower at your fingertips. The sudden silence as the engine cut out startled him out of his thoughts and he sighed. No more admiring the car, it was time for business.

He hated writing speeding tickets. He was more than a bit of a speed freak himself, and if he had a car like this he would sure as hell be flying down all of the back-water highways he could find. He always felt a little like he was betraying the fifteen-year-old boy who still kept residence in his head when he pulled someone over for speeding.

The driver had the windows down and as he approached, the guy turned off the music he had been playing. Yoko knew he should ignore it and act more professional but he couldn't keep his lips from quirking up.

" _Highway to the Danger Zone_ , really? In a black Camaro? Isn't that a bit... cliche?" He lowered his shades a fraction and looked down into bright brown eyes and an even brighter smile.

"Cliches are around for a reason you know. It's because they work, they're _classic_."

Yoko raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. Instead he put his stern cop face on, "May I please see your license, sir?"

The guy handed it over, still smiling. "I assume you pulled me over for speeding."

"Do you know how fast you were going?"

"I have to admit, I wasn't really paying attention officer."

It was at this point that he was supposed to admonish the guy for speeding, threaten to write him up for reckless driving, and give him the whole spiel about highway safety. But as the guy blinked up at him, the perfect picture of boyish mischief, Yoko had a feeling it would be a waste of breath. "Ok, Murakami-san. I can tell that explaining to you why speeding is bad is not really going to have an impact on your future driving behavior."

The man's smile was amused, "That's very astute of you Officer... Yokoyama."

The guy's voice was pleasantly husky and the way it lingered over the syllables of his name made him just a little uncomfortable. People were supposed to be at least a little nervous when confronted with a police officer, not perfectly at ease and maybe a little smug. He was trying very hard to look relaxed and in control, authoritative even but it was a little difficult when Murakami kept sneaking little smirking glances at his crotch which Yoko supposed was facilitated by it being right about at his eye level.

Right, time to even the playing field a bit. He narrowed his eyes and took a step back, "Sir, I need you to step out of the car for a moment." _There, that should make him nervous_ , he thought to himself, squashing the voice in his head that took notice of the gleam in the other man's eye that wondered if maybe that wasn't he exactly what he wanted to happen.

He tried to shake the feeling that he was being unwittingly cast in a bad porn film but it wasn't easy as Murakami stepped out of the car and shut the door, only to drape himself back against the car and give Yoko a look that was very much resembled an amused leer. Yoko tried to look stern but the guy had the nerve to waggle his eyebrows, "Do I need to spread my legs, are you going to frisk me?"

"I think you might enjoy that far too much for it to be any kind of effective punishment," Yoko shot back dryly before he could catch himself. There was something about this guy that had him actually saying what he was thinking. That wasn't good.

Murakami pushed himself off the car and closed the distance between them with a few sauntered steps, he was just about the same height as Yoko and Yoko couldn't help noticing how his eyes sparkled, they were so close.

Murakami raised an eyebrow and murmured "What if I assaulted an officer, would _that_ get me into trouble?"

Yoko's eyes snapped open wide at the implication but he didn't have time to say anything before Murakami leaned in to steal his surprised squawk right off his tongue. Suddenly he was torn between his instincts as a cop which were screaming at him to push this guy away, any number of things could go so horribly wrong. Someone could see them and report him, he was still on duty after all, the guy could turn him in himself for an abuse of authority, there could be an inquiry, he could lose his job... the list went on. But the majority of him was focused on his libido which was seductively whispering that this guy was seriously hot, he could feel the long, hard lines of his body as he pressed close, and he was a fantastic kisser to boot, and come on you are already kissing him _anyway_ how much worse could things get, and hasn't it been an awfully long time since you got really well laid? And if he were to be really truthful, the very idea of it, of picking someone up and making out on the side of the highway in broad daylight was making him shivery with illicit excitement.

Murakami finally pulled away for a moment and looked Yoko over. He could imagine what he looked like, cheeks flushed, chest heaving, hands curled into fists at his side because he hadn't yet dared to touch the guy. Murakami smiled again, "So, are you going to arrest me now or can we have some fun?"

He really couldn't believe the nerve of this guy, but he was smiling nonetheless, "I could get into so much trouble for this." 

"There's no one out here to see us," Murakami countered, leaning back with a sexy smirk "and besides, I'll make it worth the trouble, _Officer_."

He raised an eyebrow, still impressed with the guy's attitude, "You just have a thing for cops don't you?"

He got an endearingly crooked grin in response, "Really hot cops."

He was sure he was being objectified, the guy only wanted him because he had a kinky cop fetish, right? Another slow pan down Murakami's body, his eyes sliding over the compact torso shown off by a t-shirt stretched just right over sculpted abs, well fit jeans clinging to shapely legs, and a _really_ distracting bulge.

In the privacy of his head, Yoko did a little dance at the obvious implication that this gorgeous guy thought he was hot. Outwardly, he just shrugged, having already decided that objectification was seriously underrated. "Works for me."

And just like that a switch flipped in his brain and he felt the sharp edge of the smile that curled up his lips as he stepped back into Murakami's personal space and purred in his ear. "You are in an awful lot of trouble Murakami-san." He heard the other man swallow audibly and took it as a good sign, he continued to murmur, his voice an icy contrast to his breath hot on the shell of Murkami's ear. "Reckless driving, disrespecting authority... you even look like the type to consider resisting arrest." He slid his hands slowly down Murakami's arms and gently guided the man's hands behind his back.

Murakami returned his kiss eagerly, opening his mouth at the first press of Yoko's lips and sliding a nimble tongue, hot and wet, against Yoko's. Yoko figured he must be fairly distracting because the surprise in Murakami's eyes when Yoko clicked the handcuffs into place was real. It was followed immediately by a flare of heat and Yoko knew he was on the right track. "I meant what I said earlier, Murakami-san. I don't think any of the usual methods are going to work with you, it will take more than just a stern speech or a ticket won't it?" He couldn't keep the grin off his face as he surveyed the flush on Murakami's cheeks, the quickening of his breath. "No, I think you are going to require a more memorable punishment."

Having his hands cuffed behind him did not keep Murakami from an active response, Yoko managed to reflect as the man lunged for him, tangling their breath together in another hot slide of lips. Yoko let him go for a minute before flexing his hips against Murakami's, grinding their erections together and causing Murakami to break off the kiss in a ragged moan. Right, enough messing around, time to get to business.

"I'm going to search you for concealed weapons now." he informed Murakami casually. He ran his hands down the other man's sides, then back up under the thin material of his shirt moving slowly, enjoying the sensation of warm skin under his palms. He brushed a knuckle lightly over a nipple just to see Murakami shudder and smiled at the sharp intake of breath when he crouched down to slide his hands down Murakami's denim-clad legs.

He deliberately avoided any contact with Murakami's obviously hard cock but he made sure to keep his face as close to the other man's crotch as possible without touching him in any way. He did however make sure to search his pockets, chuckling at the clear tube and foil packet he found in them. "I'll be confiscating these for now." By the time he stood up, hands firm on Murakami's shoulders, the other man was squirming a little in his grasp, attempting some kind of contact.

He had him nearly where he wanted him, Murakami's voice was husky with frustration, "I think you might be all talk and no action, Officer", he spat. "I though you were going to punish me, not smirk me to death."

Yoko made a show of considering Murakami's words with great care. As much as he was anticipating what would come next, it wouldn't do to snap and jump the gun, so to speak, he didn't want to spoil the game. On the other hand, it probably wouldn't hurt to move things along a bit. In a flash he stepped forward and grabbed Murakami's shoulders, hauling him over a few steps and dexterously spinning him. His hand was firm between Murakami's shoulder blades, forcing the man's cheek flush against the warm metal of the trunk. He slid his other hand teasingly along the skin above the waistband of the Murakami's jeans, trailing his fingers up to the button even as he leaned down close to ask one last time before he couldn't take this back.

"You're absolutely sure about this?" Murakami's only answer was a strained whine and his perfect ass thrust back to press against Yoko's cock. That was pretty clear. He didn't waste any more time, pulling Murakami's jeans and boxers down roughly with one hand and immediately sliding his other back up the inside of a now bare thigh to urge the other man's legs apart. He paused to admire the view, Murakami's ass looked even better like this, bare with the angle of his back canting his hips up just so. Murakami growled his disapproval at the interruption and before he even had a chance to think about it Yoko's hand was coming down in a swift arc, striking that tempting flesh in a stinging slap. His quiet 'oh shit' was completely drowned out by Murakami's loud moan of approval. He really should have known. 

And now it was impossible to slow down. He felt the tight reins of his control slipping a little and he was already flipping open the tube when Murakami started talking, babbling in low and desperate tones how he would do anything, endure any punishment if Yoko would just touch him, claim him, fuck him.

He fumbled with his heavy belt with one hand as he slid two fingers (with slightly more coordination) between the cheeks of Murakami's ass. He wasn't overly gentle but Murakami was arching his back and moaning like a whore so Yoko figured it must be ok, he thrust three in soon after and was rewarded with a high pitched wail. He rolled the condom onto himself and swore at how good even the slight pressure of his own hand on his cock felt.

Murakami was trying to crane his head around far enough to look back over his shoulder at Yoko but as soon as Yoko pressed the slick head of his cock into his entrance, Murakami screwed his eyes shut and slumped over the car. Yoko groaned low in his throat that the tight heat surrounding him and paused to get his breath back, to get used to the pressure or he was going to come just like this and ruin it. Murakami was just drawing in a breath, no doubt to complain and tell Yoko to get on with things, as he drew his hips back and slammed in. He set a steady rhythm, keeping time with Murakami's murmured pleas; _oh god, so good, just like that, yes yes yes_. He tried not to think overly much about the heat pooling in his gut, the fire streaking down his spine but it wasn't long before he felt his muscles start to tremble and he knew he was close.

He transferred his grip from Murakami's hips, bending down even closer and grabbing one shoulder, his other hand grasping the short chain of the cuffs linking Murakami's hands together. He snapped his hips forward just as he yanked Murakami back hard and the other man threw back his head and screamed. Once, twice more, and Murakami was shuddering under him coming hard all over the trunk of the cruiser. After that Yoko didn't have a prayer of holding back, all it took was a few more desperate thrusts until the tension in his belly snapped and he was lost, the pleasure blanking out his mind except for a very small part reflecting that he was making some pretty amazing sounds himself and wasn't it a very good thing that they were out in the middle of nowhere.

He didn't spend nearly as long as he would have liked slumped over Murakami's back, they were still out in broad daylight after all and the angle of Murakami's shoulders must be starting to ache a bit by now. He pulled Murakami up and unfastened the cuffs without looking at his face, willing the blush off his cheeks. Now that the haze of desire had worn off, he was more than a little embarrassed. As soon as Murakami's hands were free, he forced Yoko's chin up to meet his friendly grin. "Well, I think you certainly have the serve part of 'to serve and protect' down." And he kissed Yoko again, cheerful and insistent. He even wiped the white smear off the rear bumper which was good because it might have been a little difficult to explain away later.

Murakami fixed his clothes grinned at him until Yoko smiled back, "So, are you going to write me that speeding ticket now?"

"Do you really think it is at all wise for me to create an official record of you being here today?" he answered with a shake of his head. "I think you should probably just go and I'll stay here. And finish my shift in peace."

Murakami just winked at him and sauntered back to his car. Ten minutes later Yoko was sitting in his squad car staring off into space again. If it wasn't for the slight dampness in the region of his boxers, he might have believed the whole think to be a very vivid daydream. I mean things that cliche didn't happen to real people, right? He wondered if he could request this beat again next month.

 

OMAKE:

Further down the highway Hina arched his back, reveling in the feeling of being well-fucked. He leaned over and opened the glove box with one hand, pulling out a small, black notebook and consulting it. He nodded and added a mental check next to the name Officer Yokoyama. Hmmm, it looked like Officer Ohkura had the graveyard traffic shift in the next neighborhood over from his tomorrow. He grinned an easy, toothy grin. He knew _exactly_ which red lights to run.


End file.
